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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26241610">A Exorcise in Improv</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atqueinstupracaballum/pseuds/Atqueinstupracaballum'>Atqueinstupracaballum</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Don't Starve (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Biting, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Demon Sex, Demons, M/M, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Sex for Favors, Shadow Hands - Freeform, Shadows - Freeform, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Voyeurism, consent given but later regretted, edited at midnight fight me, possibly the worst trade deal in all of history</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:40:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,077</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26241610</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atqueinstupracaballum/pseuds/Atqueinstupracaballum</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Wilson trades his body for food and the importance of ironing out the fine print of a deal is discovered first hand.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Maxwell/Wilson (Don't Starve)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>84</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Exorcise in Improv</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I regret nothing.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The king was not given a warm reception when he appeared to his agitated subject. That much had been expected, considering that as his name had been called into the barren wilderness it had been mixed in with a whole slew of flourishing American descriptives.</p>
<p>“You called," Maxwell droned, faking his disinterest well. In the Constant, saying the king's name, especially so <em>loudly</em>, was a bit like sending him a telegram requesting attention. His ever watching minions would hear and would bring it to his notice, no matter the hour. Nothing went unnoticed under the constants sun. Even a grown man's temper tantrum. </p>
<p>Not that it was unfounded, that anger. </p>
<p>“How did you- You were watching me,” accused the young scientist, canines flashing.</p>
<p>“Always.” Maxwell's tone was bordering boredom as he pulled his cigar-case from his jacket.</p>
<p>“That is impossible,” there was a defensive edge to the scientist's tone, and the rigid pull of his shoulders, as though it were a personal affront. </p>
<p>“As I remember it, you stated once that you did not believe in the so-called 'impossible'. That it was a construct made by and for cowards.” the king noted, cigar now clenched between teeth as he lit it with his own manifested flame. The look of offense grew on the scientist's face. His dark brows drew up, winkling his pale forehead, thin lips pulling tight.</p>
<p>“How,” he asked, refusing to acknowledge his past statements.</p>
<p>“Unimportant to your current situation, Higgsbury, and off-topic. You called, I answered, what do you want.”</p>
<p>“But-” the younger man was cut off with a blatantly uninterested glare.</p>
<p>“Get on with it.”</p>
<p>Begrudgingly Higgsbury complied, taking in a breath and setting his shoulders.</p>
<p>“I’d like some food, If you please,” he declared, voice surprisingly firm for a starving man.</p>
<p>“And that is my problem,” questioned the king sarcastically. “If you want food go look for it.” Higgsbury glared up at him, teeth grinding.</p>
<p>“Could you kindly cut the bullshit,” he snapped, "I know what you're doing."</p>
<p>“Do enlighten me, be that the case” Maxwell had to consciously keep his lips from sliding upwards into a smirk as he spoke.</p>
<p>“God damn it-” for a moment, just a moment, Higgsbury lost his temper completely, fury lighting his whiskey colored eyes. But he was smart, he had learned one or two things during his time here, and so pulled back, collecting himself once more, shoving all that anger down and away into some old cupboard of his mind. With a level attitude, he managed to continue. “You created this land, cultivated it as you like...which means only you can be blamed when there is no food. Which there isn’t.”</p>
<p>“Huh,” he feigned some arbitrary level of surprise as if he had misplaced a paperweight. “It must have slipped my mind.”</p>
<p>“Hardly.” Wilson scoffed, “You want me to come begging hand and knee to you.”</p>
<p>“It isn’t a bad picture,” admitted maxwell. “Though a bit cliche,” a bit of ash was flicked from his cigar, “begging isn't a fancy of yours, is it Mr. Higgsbury?”</p>
<p>“And what do you know about my fancies,” he shot back, defensive again. Overly defensive. Maxwell could not help but take advantage of the misstep.</p>
<p>“So you <em>want</em> to get on your knees and beg for me?” </p>
<p>Wilson went red, indignantly started back, disgust winkling his face.</p>
<p>“I would rather die, or suffer any number of horrors! That’s not- nevermind, just-” he struggled with his composure, yet forced his way through the statement, “what do you want? I have nothing. Literally nothing. Just...give me food you demon.”</p>
<p>Maxwell let the silence that hung itself up after Higgsbury’s demands continue. He used the time between chatter to observe his captive scientist, sucking in the little details and rolling them each around in his head like the cigar between his fingers. </p>
<p>The younger man did not flinch or attempt to flee as his king and captor approached, only grimacing as his jaw was taken into one gloved hand and tilted up. Maxwell's eyes were voids dissecting him, black and cold, and endless like a crypt. Wilson blanched slightly.</p>
<p>"things like that come at a price," he, at last, said, allowing his fingers to bite into the young mortal's cheek a little. </p>
<p>"Just tell me why you're doing this," already he was exasperated, desperate, ready to be done with it all. </p>
<p>the wonderful thing was that in that moment, Maxwell did not truly want anything. When he had stripped the world of its edible resources, there had been no specific goal in mind. Really, it had been a whim, fulfilled simply because he could, because it seemed like something that would reap interesting harvests. </p>
<p>Long, long ago William Carter had read about some lab giving rats electric shocks purely to see their reactions to the stimulation. this was only preliminary. A true, formal experiment was developed after the reactions were noted as opposed to before. The entire trial was determined around the reactions as they happened. Much of the same premise applied here. </p>
<p>Really, it was a exorcise in improv. </p>
<p>By the redness that was beginning to overtake Wilson’s face, Maxwell figured something was stirring in that dense head of his. </p>
<p>“What do you want,” the younger man asked again, this time quietly.</p>
<p>“What do you think?” replied Maxwell. Whatever was churning around in the small scientist seemed struck dead on by the cooly applied question.</p>
<p>Wilson’s dark eyes widened, breaths coming out shorter as he stared up into the king's face. Gaps were filling in. Electricity was being applied. Unbeknownst to him, whatever Wilson Higgsbury did next was going to sign his fate. Whatever he had convinced himself Maxwell's wicked motive was, was about to become Maxwell's next few moves on the board. </p>
<p>The pause between them was near-lethal, the entire universe halted on its axis, just for a breath of a moment. In that breath, Maxwell found himself amusedly wondering what his subject would do next. He had such a broad, gruesome imagination, as vast and nonsensical as the ocean surrounding the island. </p>
<p>With a shuddering breath, Wilson closed his eyes, a whole mix of emotions muddling themselves on his face. He seemed to be in a heated debate with his inner self. The moment of deliberation passed and those dark eyes slid back open, observing Maxwell with a newfound coolness. It was clear that Wilson had a trajectory in mind as he glared upwards to his sovereign. </p>
<p>"You sick bastard," he muttered and closed the distance between them.</p>
<p>The universe really <em>did</em> halt then.</p>
<p>Shadows near and far felt their king's surprise and gathered round to see what had caused it. Their king was <em>never</em> surprised. <em>Never</em> caught off guard. <em>Never getting kissed by his subordinate</em>. He was being watched, more than usual that is, They were there, observing with interest as Higgsbury bit back his own disgust and pressed closer to Maxwell, giving him what he had assumed he wanted.</p>
<p>Maxwell shook away the surprise, or any other lingering emotion that wasn't useful, and focused. It clicked into place what Higgsbury's line of thought. Quickly he recalculated his trajectory, writing a script of sorts, stage directions included, and pressed into the kiss with a smug grin. With himself in hand once more, he could appreciate the gateway Wilson had just opened, packed to the brim with new forms of destruction and depravity for all who cared to behold it. </p>
<p>Wilson flinched as teeth grazed the flesh of his neck. They were sharper now, not at all human, not at all meant to be near delicate skin or arteries. Maxwell felt the patter of a pulse under his lips, smelt the blood running just out of his reach, and allowed himself a little taste. Delicately, using only a small portion of his strength, he sunk his teeth in. Wilson groaned, arms slinging around his shoulders as he lapped at the ruby liquid now spilling out onto his greedy tongue.</p>
<p>A new sort of heat began tugging at him. Bloodlust, in the truest sense of the word. A craving for something carnal, something he had almost forgotten after all these years. </p>
<p>He shifted his mouth, finding a new spot to bite and lather, then another, and another, until Wilson’s throat looked like it had been used as a hounds chew toy and the man himself was trembling, panting, saying nonsense under his breath.</p>
<p>This wasn’t enough. Not nearly. Not for him or for Them.</p>
<p>His fingers grasped tightly to the shoulders of his captive as he unhinged himself from his neck, lips painted red with gore as he returned the kiss that had been given to him before. He wanted Higgsbury to taste himself, his own life force, ripped out of his body and stolen by his ruler. Maxwell’s tongue wasn’t exactly human as it forced its way into the man’s mouth, large, slimy, hot as it slid down its prey's throat. Wilson shuddered, choking in surprise as he was ravaged so thoroughly by it, as is own blood filled his senses and tainted his taste buds. Another sound came out of him then, dangerously close to a moan.</p>
<p>Maxwell retracted his tongue and nipped Wilson's lower lip before pushing him backward. </p>
<p>Wilson gave a start as he hit soft, expensive, dark sheets.</p>
<p>“What- where-we were in the woods- two seconds ago we were in the woods.” his breaths were harsher than usual as he stared at his new surroundings. The bedroom was dimly lit yet richly decorated. Large, lush, and crawling with shadows, it screamed of gothic mansions and dangerous royalty. </p>
<p>“I’m offended, pal. You really thought I was going to lower myself enough to fuck in the woods...how completely uncivilized.”</p>
<p>“But how-”</p>
<p>“You’ve got bigger issues to attend to Mr. Higgsbury.” his black eyes flicked down the body splayed out across his bed, each limb and its mortal frailness tempting him before, at last, he caught sight of something between the man's legs. “Bigger issues indeed,” he fluttered a few fingers over the hard tent in Wilson’s pants, drinking up the horrified shiver of its owner.</p>
<p>Wilson was very, very red in the face as he stared at his kings stroking hand.</p>
<p>“I-” he fumbled the words. “That isn’t because of- of you- don’t smile like that!”</p>
<p>Maxwell had to laugh. He had always had a soft spot for pitiful displays.</p>
<p>“I would fancy hearing what the cause of it was, then. I really don’t see many other options.”</p>
<p>“Just…” Wilson's eyes fell closed as he sucked in a deep breath. “Just get it over with. Have your way then give me my food, deal?” silence met the question as two shadow hands wrapped around his wrists, pinning him. “Deal,” he snapped impatiently, almost snarling.</p>
<p>“Bargaining are we,” cooed the king, patting his knee with false tenderness as Wilson's eyes flashed open.</p>
<p>“I thought-” the fear and hatred in them was better than any drink he had tried in the old days, when he had been mortal and stupid, just like Wilson.</p>
<p>“You did? It doesn’t bloody look like it,” and he leaned down, laying a nibble over the man's pale, sweat-slicked jaw. Underneath him Wilson began to thrash, failing in every capacity to escape.</p>
<p>“You bastard! Get away from me- if-”</p>
<p>“C’mon pal,” Maxwell smiled down at him, tapping a claw under his chin. “ Lighten up a little.” he could feel the glare cutting through him. “You’ll get your food. I’m a fair fellow, after all.”</p>
<p>“Go fuck yourself.”</p>
<p>“Starve then, if you're going to talk like that,” and he put one hand up to snap. Wilson let out a little growl before sighing, his face entirely consumed with unhappy supplication. Maxwell lowered his hands and two more shadow hands appeared, sharp talons making quick work of Wilson's clothing. Buttons were undone civilly, carefully the waistcoat, shirt, pants -as well as any undergarments-, shoes, and socks were all stripped off him. Little damage was done to the garbs.</p>
<p>If there was one thing that Maxwell still respected, other than himself, it was clothes, his own or others. To see a perfectly good waistcoat go to hell with tears and grime stung him. </p>
<p>Throughout the process, Wilson kept his composure, even under his sovereigns appraising eyes. Maxwell would have been impressed if he had not been more disappointed. He had expected squirming by now, fighting, desperation, <em>something</em>. </p>
<p>“You were human once, weren’t you,” he blurted. Maxwell could not help but frown, brow clouding.</p>
<p>“What gave you that impression,” the claws that had just undressed him began caressing Wilson as Maxwell spoke. The shadow masses contrasted wonderfully against the pale, boney expanse of skin laid out for him. It was a sickly sort of delicate, porcelain, and the shadows could not help but get a little taste. Wilson winced when claws began dragging down his torso, leaving red lines behind, not drawing blood yet, but still indentions and epidermis wounds that would stick around for a time.</p>
<p>“Only…” his breath halted as one of the hands curled around his thigh, smoothing over the sensitive inner area, “this is a purely human thing to do. Animals don’t do this. I’m assuming whatever the hell these things are don’t either, not naturally. Taking sex in exchange for-” he grunted as his thigh was dug into, this time enough to spill blood, “for goods, that’s entirely human.”</p>
<p>Maxwell reckoned it was almost cute how Wilson thought that this had been his wicked plan all along, as though it was not Wilson himself who had opened the pandora's box up. </p>
<p>“You’ve got a real knack for missing the big picture pal,” the claw on Wilson’s thigh slid back up his hip, drawing more wonderful lines.</p>
<p>“I think I have the right to ignore the big picture right now. I think…” his eyes flicked downwards over himself, over the hands groping him, over his own half-hard cock, and over Maxwell’s hands now replacing the shadows previous grip on his thigh. “Hell I look like a cats scratching post.” his head fell back onto the pillow, eyes stubbornly deducing the fine details of Maxwell’s high vaulted ceiling.</p>
<p>“I must say that it suits you,” Maxwell said, smiling a bit as he pried his prey's legs open further. With one thumb he swiped over the wound there, making a sweeping stroke with the blood, drawing it out in a squiggly line upwards before swooping down to lick it up.</p>
<p>“Get on with i-eh-AH!,” Wilson screamed for all the shadows to hear, for Them, and Maxwell, to bask in as wickedly sharp teeth sunk deep into his thigh. His entire body was tense, yet Maxwell did not fail to see how his cock twitched, or how his entire face went an even deeper shade of red.</p>
<p>Maxwell found himself wondering how red he could paint that face without having to rip the top fleshy layer off completely. A smirk meandered onto his face as more of that wondrous blood filled his senses. It blinded him like a shark or wolf, tempting him in for more as his prey shuddered and groaned.</p>
<p>He lapped over the new wound before moving further down, his mouth pressing the connective muscle between leg and groin. Much the same reaction was earned as he made his second mark. Meanwhile, the shadow hands were still hard at work, feeling every nook and cranny, seeing what drew out the most interesting reactions. His stomach and flank, the warmer, softer parts of him, seemed most sensitive. Each claw that dragged up his sides got a fluttering diaphragm, a squirm, and a breathy sort of noise. As Maxwell lost more of his focus to the lull of carnal pleasures the claws began to grow more desperate and intimate with their touches. They were not merely exploring now, but savoring, coaxing Wilson closer to a terrible sort of bliss.</p>
<p>Under no circumstances, however, did anything go near the proudly standing erection that was so eagerly begging attention.</p>
<p>Maxwell turned his violent affections to his subjects other thigh, running his monstrous tongue over the sensitive flesh, tasting the salt of sweat and smell of fear before digging in with tooth and claw.</p>
<p>“Am I getting fucked or eaten,” cried Wilson, as though just now realizing how poorly negotiated this whole deal was. Knowing him, Maxwell would not have been surprised.</p>
<p>“None of your concern Mr. Higgsbury,” he sat up, licking the red metallic from his lips as he mapped out what to try next.</p>
<p>“I think it damn well is my conc-” the statement died on his lips as something move behind Maxwell. It was not another one of the shadow claws and his wide eyes stayed trained on it, never blinking, hardly breathing. “What the fuck is that.” the thing slid up onto the bed, making a slimy sound as it reared up next to the demon that had summoned it. For the second time this hour he attempted to struggle away, straining against the hands holding him down.</p>
<p>“You’ve not seen a tentacle before? It’s quite a simple creature.” he ran a glove over the things black, wet surface as though it were a dog or cat. It had the same texture as a muscle soaked to the bone in oil.</p>
<p>“What is it doing here?” Wilson had yet to quit his useless fighting, still attempting to move the immovable.</p>
<p>“What did you think was going to go inside of you, my cock?”</p>
<p>“Well yes, that’s- that’s typically how these arrangements-” he was glistening with sweat now, face still red, for new reasons now. His erection was flagging, bit by bit, stamped out by fear and confusion. Maxwell cut him off without care, impatient to continue on with business.</p>
<p>“Precisely, typical. I’m not a fellow to fetter myself to the typical. Besides, exactly what have you done to deserve to see my unpackaged goods, hm?"</p>
<p>“That is not going in me, no, it’s- is that nightmare fuel.”</p>
<p>“Not quite sure myself, to tell you the truth, but I can assure you that it will be going inside of you.” The tentacle lurched forward, making more wondrously disgusting sounds as it went, drawing ever closer to its unhappy victim. “Think of it as an experiment, if that helps” with that, he allowed the thing to enter Higgsbury.</p>
<p>Such a wondrous shriek ripped from the young man. Curses and pleas choked away in sobs as his body was breached. Whatever slime was on the tendril was more than enough lubrication as it fought its way in, uncaring of how unprepared the hole it was burrowing into was. Maxwell growled for he could feel the heat and pressure of it, the absolute feral pleasure that came at its heels. It forced him deeper. </p>
<p>Around them They keened for such a lovely scream, wanting more of them. Maxwell always gave Them what They wanted. </p>
<p>“Too big- too big-” Wilson garbled out, back arching as tears soaked his scarlet cheeks. Maxwell felt another stab of that deliciously sadistic heat kindle in his core as he watched his tendril pause, having filled his subject up to his limit, stuffed him nice and proper. </p>
<p>“No, I would say it fits quite snuggly.”</p>
<p>A pained growl met the absent-minded remark.</p>
<p>“I can’t-”</p>
<p>“You can,” Maxwell corrected and the tendril began moving. It was the same slick pistoning motions involved with traditional sex, except with far more dramatic results for all parties involved. Wilson struggled vainly, still in obvious, very vocal agony as the thing cracked him open and had its way. Maxwells own slacks were tightening around the evidence of his sadistic pleasure. For now, however, he left it. </p>
<p>They were positively eating this up. Every sound Wilson made as he shivered and attempted to pull away was a fine cuisine for Them, and for Maxwell, and for any other entity that might as well be watching.</p>
<p>Unable to help himself, he leaned over that convulsing, conflicted body shuttering on his bed, shadowing it completely. At once the shadow hands unnecessary to pinning him down let go of Wilson, pulling away and leering above their king in the dim lights, waiting for orders as Maxwell cupped his subjects jaw firmly, forcing those brown, bloodshot, dilated eyes to meet with his own.</p>
<p>“Marvelous,” he muttered, hardly aware of himself as he beheld Wilsons tear-stained, ruby cheeks, as well as the harsh line of his tightly pulled lips as he attempted to stifle his crying.</p>
<p>“Go to hell,” the younger man rasped out before moaning, snapping his head back as the tendril deepened it’s thrusts.</p>
<p>Maxwell chuckled smugly, running his fingers through Wilson's dark, thick hair before taking a solid scalp full and tugging, forcing him to look at the fun that was being had with his body. </p>
<p>Wilson’s hard on from before had flagged, though it was coming back with a vengeance as he adjusted. Two claws came out of the growing cluster of shadows and began to play with that proud shaft, drawing a groan from its owner. These new shadows were slick too, their form less defined, more chaotic, and all-encompassing, rather fittingly mirroring their masters state.</p>
<p>It no longer mattered necessarily what he looked like, or what came out of the darknesses to help, as long as Wilson kept writhing under his touch and making such a delicious mess out of himself. Maxwell could not say he was particularly fond of music, as a rule, nor listening to things for the rest of eternity, but Wilson’s moans of pleasure and agony were quickly becoming an exception.</p>
<p>The tendril grew rougher with its thrusts. Wilsons fingers were bound to tear holes in his bedsheets from how viciously he was gripping them. That would not do at all. The hands holding his wrists forced his fingers flat before pulling them up over his head, lacing their fingers together.</p>
<p>The picture was a pretty one. Maxwell had to admit.</p>
<p>It was beginning to chip away his concentration, the heady heat of it all. Wilsons body was a stage at the moment, something for him to put actors onto and craft a real show out of. In this, he had succeeded. He could step away now, take it easy, sit back and watch.</p>
<p>Wilson barely noticed when he disappeared from the bed, and in general.</p>
<p>Though Maxwell fancied his more human form and though it was an easy one to maintain, he always held a particular liking for this one. It wasn’t that he was <em>a</em> shadow, but rather, that he was <em>the</em> shadows. All of them. He was in every corner of the room, every fold of the bedsheets, everywhere, haunting the room like a film of dust one can never sweep away. All-encompassing. All controlling. He watched from high in the corner as his hands and tendrils worked with the writhing man on the bed, drunk off all of the power.</p>
<p>Feeding on his glee, and his need, the tendril was properly pounding Wilson into the mattress now, playing with his prostate, drowning him in the perfect mix of pains and pleasures. The man's hips canted despite his obvious conflict, and at last, he opened his tear eyes. </p>
<p>“Maxwe…” blearily he looked around, down, then around again. “Where...Where are you?”</p>
<p>“Here,” he replied. His voice was darker, deeper, an inhuman rumble that made the furniture and wall hangings tremble. It had no specific source. It was everywhere. He was everywhere. Wilson gulped, eyes staying peeled.</p>
<p>“I-I-”</p>
<p>The man was a mess, his erection was covered in precum, and whatever the hands were leaking, throbbing harder than ever. He was drenched in sweat and in that greyish slick, in <em>Maxwell</em>. Around him shadows were squirming, cackling at the pitiful display, drawing to the very edges of the bed, some even clamoring up onto it, until they could touch Wilson, hiss in his ears, loom over him and lick up his tears. His breaths, when they did manage to come out, were harsh and impossibly uneven. He looked like he was on the brink of collapse, his entire body tense with the need to release what was so tightly coiled within, toeing the edge of that dark, yawning abyss.</p>
<p>The tendril pulled out and the shadow hands snuck away. Every form of contact ceased. </p>
<p>Maxwell felt his own precipice looming as Wilson bit down on his own frustrated screech, bearing down by instinct, attempting to regain what he had lost.</p>
<p>“No- no you can’t- you fucking bastard! You can’t just- just pul me this far then- You-” his insults died on his lips as something new joined the party.</p>
<p>Maxwell did not know exactly what he had summoned, but Wilson gaped at it as if it were straight from his nightmares. The young man attempted to force himself back, away from the shadow monster now looming snuggly between his legs.</p>
<p>Black drool leaked between the creatures sharp, endless rows of fangs, its body was little more than a shivering mass and its eyes were pure white voids as it stared through Wilson.</p>
<p>“Oh god,” another wretched sound came from him. It was like gasoline to everything Maxwell was feeling. “Oh god please no- please maxwell- please- please,” the individual words blurred together into a jumble of tear-filled nothing as the thing came very, very close to his erection, maw opening to reveal a horrible purple tongue. He had all the look of a man who thought he was about to get a very messy, forceful penectomy.</p>
<p>“Relax,” Maxwell cooed, pressing right against Wilson's left ear, leaving a biting kiss there. The shadow hands slipped down to his boney hips to keep them steady and pinned as the nightmare creature unhinged it’s jaw and took Wilson’s length whole. He screamed as he was covered tip to base by an impossibly hot, moist mouth, and no one present could tell if there was more fear or pleasure in it. The things tongue wound around his cock and began, tortuously slow, to pump. A whole army of razor edges ghosted against his most delicate region.</p>
<p>The tentacle was back, probing his wet, abused entrance, drawing strangled strings of pleas from its owner as it regained its old pace. Maxwell was feeling too many sensations to fully pay attention to exactly how hard his tendril began pounding into his subject, or how rough the tongue around his cock was beginning to work. It was an all-encompassing heat now, a pot boiling over, the entire room was writhing with unfathomable creatures of the void. The once dapper bedroom had transmuted to a hellish den of eldritch horrors.</p>
<p>They watched gleefully as their favorite toys came completely undone.</p>
<p>Wilson lost himself first, ejaculating into the monster's mouth as it smirked at him, drinking it down before sliding off of him and nuzzling his stomach, shredding some of the skin there between its teeth. At once Wilson collapsed, dead to the world, barely alive even to himself. Exhausted. Unable to react to the growling in his ears and the feeling of liquid releasing within him, and on him, and the void swallowing the room up completely as Maxwell tumbled over his own pit of bliss.</p>
<p>~</p>
<p><br/>
Wilson awoke on soft grass, flowers and leafs tickling his forehead. The sensation was calming and for a moment he stayed, at peace, the memories of the last few hours of his existence far off.</p>
<p>A rustling near his torso broke the trance.</p>
<p>At once he flicked one eye open, dragging it open to see a very unwelcome sight looming above him. </p>
<p>"Say pal, you're awake.”</p>
<p>Wilson glared upwards at the shadow king with both eyes now. The demon stood there so nonchalantly, as always, as though he was merely passing through the neighborhood and decided to peek his head in.</p>
<p>“Don’t give me that look. I fulfilled my end of the deal, see,” he nodded to the wicker basket which sat by Wilson's shoe. Wilson blinked and sat up with a sharp wince, attempting and failing to deduce why exactly everything hurt so badly.</p>
<p>“You’re end of the deal…” small flickers of images began to flit through his mind drowsily, he grabbed onto each one and observed it until more pictures began to come into focus.</p>
<p>It hit him like a ton of bricks.</p>
<p>Memories, bright and clear as the daylight they were under slammed into him and left him pale, winded, horrified yet...he glared upwards once more.</p>
<p>“What was that- that’s not what I signed up for- you know-” he would have continued if Maxwell had not broken his angry train of English.</p>
<p>“You’re bloody awful at detail work, you know that?”</p>
<p>“What even were those things- where did you go- how- what?” to many questions were piling into his mind all at once. “What the <em>fuck</em> is wrong with you?” His brain physically felt like it was about to explode. The look on Maxwell’s face was enough to assure him that none of his questions would be getting answers any time soon. In fact, he looked as though he were about to leave. “Wait,” Wilson cried, with such fever that Maxwell obeyed. “Wait, wait, it- the thing- the tentacle, it came?- it- it did something in me, in the end. There was slimy stuff all over me..the shadows were leaking...that can’t be good for me, for any human body! It isn’t natural!” he sucked in his breath, attempting to regain the composure he’d lost. “Are there any side effects to whatever that stuff was? At least tell me that.”</p>
<p>Maxwell seemed to consider the question, thinking on it for a moment before smiling a horrible, gut wrenching smile.</p>
<p>“I suppose you and I will find out together, won’t we Mr. Higgsbury?”</p>
<p>Then he was gone.</p>
<p>Wilson wanted to scream, wanted to kill the demon himself, but he kept his cool, merely gritting his teeth as he looked to the basket laying by him.</p>
<p>“Well... I got my food, that’s really all that matters…survival...” despite the protests of his body he scooted forward on his knees, focusing on the wicker basket instead of his own growing panic. He peeled off the top, expecting a whole feast inside. Repayment for all of his trouble.</p>
<p>One single, measly carrot met his unbelieving eyes and as his vision flickered to red he could hear the entire world laughing at him.</p>
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